


Lost

by Songofpsalms297



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Loss, Dark, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, I really am terribly sorry., I'm Sorry, Loss of Parent(s), Marriage, Parent-Child Relationship, Potential trigger warning, Sibling Loss, Tethragasts, spontaneous abortion, unknown pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8784622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songofpsalms297/pseuds/Songofpsalms297
Summary: Varric reviews his losses so far in his life. He learns of an unexpected loss.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My brother in law died suddenly, and very unexpectedly a few short months ago. I think my subconscious must still be dealing with the incredible loss we still feel. One of the emotions that still surprises me is anger. I am mad at him for something he had absolutely no control over. Human, and stupid. I know. So, I am sorry. If you want fluff, this is so not fluffy. Something fluffy will be coming.

The screech of the tires, the shift of the car, the sudden flash of light, and it all goes black.

          Maker’s balls he hated hospitals. Antiseptic permeating everything. The sickly green walls, tired beep of the monitors, the mechanical hiss to the respirator. All the times he’d come here with his mother, and Bartrand to visit his father when Varric was a kid. Ugh, Varric remembered coming to visit his dad, and watching his father slowly fade away as the cancer ravaged his once stocky form. They’d become Andrastian then. When they’d heard his father’s prognosis. Varric still shifted uncomfortably remembering his mother, Ilsa, drunk, screaming invectives at the doctor who’d explained the test results. That this was a very fast, very agonizing form of cancer. Healthy people who were diagnosed with that particular brand had a 10-20% survival rate. His father had even less of a chance. Varric’s mother had lit into their doctor. Yelling about negativity, and cancer, and Andvar couldn’t die because the family still needed him. Their doctor had been a fellow surface dwarf. No doubt chosen to break the terrible news to the Tethras family, the bond of shared faith generally a help in times of grief. Ilsa Tethras dealt with grief by striking out at the doctor, and spending Andvar’s remaining days’ blind drunk. Varric was fairly certain his family’s conversion from venerating Paragons, to worshippers of Andraste, and the Maker was meant to spite their ancestors, who let Andvar die in agony. Almost as soon as Ilsa had declared their family Andrastian, Varric had begun to find comfort in the little chantry services.  He developed the habit of praying fiercely multiple times a day to escape the grief, and then the rage that had taken over their once peaceful home. 

          Then, a year after they’d buried Andvar, their mother was dying too. Only not cancer this time. She died of cirrhosis of the liver. Connected to those damned tubes, machines, and wires that kept her alive, forcibly detoxing. Ilsa died an angry, bitter, drunk in the throes of withdrawal. And then Bartrand, the damned fool. He’d been an asshole before, probably because of their parent’s crap, but when he’d left Varric and Hawke behind in the deep roads, that had been the worst betrayal yet. Andraste’s ass he still felt sick when he remembered the sneer in Bartrand’s voice, and then the sickening thud of the thaig door slamming shut behind him. Effectively cutting off all sound. That feeling of helpless desperation following the shock of stunned betrayal, felt the same as sitting here, in this Maker forsaken hospital, next to this Maker blighted bed. Listening to the tired electronic moan of the machines. Varric rubbed his face with his hands, and groaned aloud. He’d forgotten about the stitches crossing his forehead, and cheek. He’d also, temporarily forgotten about his concussion, and gauze bedazzled head.

          Gingerly feeling the place where he’d helpfully tried to put his head through the window, he winced as the memory flashed, her scream filling him with cold fear, the taste of blood filling his mouth again, the shriek of the breaks grinding, failing to lock, sickening crunch of metal. The worst sound of all, Cassandra’s terrified yell cut off like someone flipped a switch.  Shuddering, he grimaced migraine exploding behind his eyes. Rubbing the thin gold band on his left hand, Varric sighed heavily, slipping his right hand into her slack one. Varric prayed like he hadn’t since he was a child.

          “Mr. Tethras?” The timid voice shot through his head like an icepick. Pitching his voice lower, hoping the voice would respond to his unspoken request for a quieter volume. His voice came out rougher than he expected. Wincing he spoke, “Yes? You have news for me?” The elven doctor stood in the door way, uncertainty and sorrow warring across her tattooed face. “Um, I do. Um, but I can get the on call dwarven doctor right away if you’d prefer to hear the news from him.” She had an innocent face for someone who worked in the emergency room. He spotted her earrings, knowing the nickname fit her, “Daisy, just. Just tell me what you know. Okay?” Unconsciously tugging at the daisy hanging from her left lobe, she cleared her throat. Sympathetic tears welling in her eyes, but not spilling over. “I am so very sorry, Mr. Tethras.” Varric fought his tears as his heart cracked and broke within his chest. Tightening his empty hand into a fist, he cleared his throat. Nodding at the clipboard in her hand, he ground out, “I appreciate the compassion, Daisy, but what is the diagnosis?”

            “Mrs. Tethras endured significant trauma in the accident. We are hopeful she will regain consciousness, in the next few weeks.” Her breath hitched, glancing up at Dr. Daisy’s face, Varric saw the tears begin to fall, the tiny bubble of hope that had been blooming in his chest, crushed. Her voice broke as she delivered the blow, “But we were unable to save your twins. I am sorry, Mr. Tethras, your wife spontaneously aborted the babies while we were fighting to save her life.” Varric’s heart ripped in half at the doctor's words.

He hadn’t even known Cass was pregnant.

 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra's point of view.

          Painful flash of light. Light-hearted giggles tickle at the edge of her consciousness. Sluggishly waking, feeling little hands in hers, pulling, “Mamma! Mamma! Wake! Papa is cooking you breakfast!” Laughing as she opens her eyes, “Oh dear! I must rise quickly, or Papa may burn it!” Her heart catches, broad smile unfurling, gazing at her beautiful twin daughters. She couldn’t escape the amazement that struck her every time she looked at their daughters. Both girls had honey brown eyes, like their parents, both girls had Varric’s easy good humor, and her passion for truth. One little beauty had strawberry curls, and the other was raven-haired. The three-year-old girls were still too young to determine which parent they would favor in stature.

            Cassandra and Varric had spent many a joyful hour playfully bickering arguing whether raven-haired Bethany, or Evelyn would resemble which parent in build. Usually while sitting on their balcony overlooking Hightown in Kirkwall, one twin drifting off to sleep in each parent’s lap. Something they had done since the twins had been born. It had progressed from rocking and cooing, the girls, to storytelling, and blessings whispered against sleepy temples. “One more story, Papa!” was a familiar refrain.

            At the end of yet another busy day, Cassandra, and Varric each held one of their daughters in their respective laps. Absently rubbing Evelyn’s back while the strawberry haired beauty snuggled closer to her mother in her sleep, Cassandra felt a sharp pain pierce her brow. Hissing quietly to not disturb her sleeping daughter, Cassandra stretched her hand out to Varric. Concern on his face, he took her hand with his free one. Squeezing her hand gently, his eyebrow raised. She replied to his unspoken question, “Just a quick one. Not nearly as strong as the migraines I’ve been having, it was over almost as quickly as it came on.”

            “I’ll put Sunshine down, and bring you up a cup of the tea, Healer Brown prescribed for you. We don’t want you to get a migraine. I rely on you too much with this parenting thing to fly solo.” Cassandra looked fondly at Varric, “I will not abandon you to the drudgery of potty training, my love. Let me put Evelyn down with her sister, maybe resting in the same bed will allow them to avoid bad dreams tonight. So that you and I may pursue an alternate headache cure to that terrible tasting tea.”

            Laughter rumbling through his broad chest, dancing in his eyes, Varric nodded, “Now that, sounds like a plan.” Cassandra followed his lead as they walked to their daughter’s room, and put their sleeping blessings to bed.

            She tried to not giggle like a school girl at the wicked grin on Varric’s face, as they tiptoed out of Bethany and Evelyn’s room, down the hall to their room. Gazing into each other’s eyes they began the slow, erotic process of soothing the source of her headache. Later, laying within the circle of Varric’s well-muscled arms, Cassandra drifted off to sleep thinking of how wonderful her life was, and how greatly the Maker had blessed her.

           Clawing her way to consciousness, her heart calms seeing her beloved by her side. She raised her shunt-infused hand to brush her fingers through his hair. He moaned in acknowledgement, raising his eyes to meet hers. The joy that had been swelling in her heart, died when their eyes met. The force of his grief told her.

           The joyous news she had wanted to share with Varric over a candlelit dinner, didn’t exist anymore. Her pregnancy had been terminated by the accident. Their miracle wasn’t anymore.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Gone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12076494) by [ArtKriegGamer24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtKriegGamer24/pseuds/ArtKriegGamer24)




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